


The Bonds that Unite Us

by raven_with_a_writing_desk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, after 3B?, but Isaac's still there, but it's resolved, i love his sass too much to get rid of him, scott and stiles fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 06:22:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8275903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_with_a_writing_desk/pseuds/raven_with_a_writing_desk
Summary: The Pack works together to solve a case involving murders. And while doing so Stiles and Peter accidentally fall for each other.





	

It wasn’t that big a deal. Stiles was always touching people. Leaning against his friends, poking them in the ribs, slapping them on the back, and so on. So when he zoned out for a few minutes during a Pack meeting and ended up leaning against Peter instead of Scott who had originally been beside him, it really was an accident. And hopefully Peter would realize that before he tore Stiles’ throat out. Although he looked more amused than angry, so maybe he would let Stiles live after all.

“I’m sorry! I thought Scott was still standing beside me,” Stiles explained hastily, shuffling towards the door.

“Scott left five minutes ago, along with everyone else. They’re going to investigate the latest murder,” Peter replied, slowly approaching Stiles.

“They left without telling me?”

“They did, but you weren’t paying attention. Now it’s just you and me,” Peter said, crowding Stiles against the door of Derek’s loft.

“Uh…”

Leaning in, Peter inhaled deeply, taking in Stiles’ scent before smirking at Stiles and pushing himself off the wall and away from him.

“Good bye, Stiles,” Peter said, walking out of the loft and leaving Stiles standing there with no clue of what just happened.

-

“The bodies were found here and here,” Scott said, pointing at the map in front of him. It was the next day and the pack was back at Derek’s loft, trying to figure out what had managed to kill both victims. “We went to the crime scenes and according to the police, all the victims appeared to die from exhaustion.”

Reaching across the table, Scott grabbed the police file Stiles had brought from home and accidently brushed Peter’s hand, causing Peter to growl and flash his eyes at Scott.

Instinctively, Stiles reached out and grabbed Peter’s arm.

“Calm down, dude,” he said. Peter immediately backed off and Stiles sent him a confused look before turning back to Scott.

“Anyways,” Scott said, clearing his throat. “Here are the pictures from the crime scene before the bodies were removed. I don’t know if anyone will find anything, but it’s worth a shot to look.”

Placing the pictures on top of the map, Scott was still spreading them out when Stiles blurted out, “dude, those are faerie rings surrounding the bodies.”

“What?” Kira asked, sending Stiles an incredulous look.

“Faerie rings,” Stiles repeated, poking her in the ribs. “They’re rings of mushrooms and they appear in tons of folklore.”

“How are they formed?” Derek asked, still studying the pictures.

“I think they form over rotten stumps and stuff,” Stiles said, shrugging.

“How are they formed in folklore, you idiot,” Peter replied, nudging Stiles.

Surprised, Stiles glanced at the wolf but Peter just kept staring at the pictures, pretending nothing had happened. Catching Scott’s eye, he sent him a look, but Scott just shrugged.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t even know what they were.”

Looking at Peter again, Stiles could just see the hint of a smile on his face as he pretended to examine the pages and he realized that Peter had purposefully nudged him without anyone else noticing.

“So do you know how they’re formed or not?” Derek asked impatiently, finally looking up.

“Uh, yeah. They’re created by faeries dancing and the circle marks the spot where they danced as a warning for humans not to enter.”

“And what happens if a human enters?” Isaac asked.

“Depends. If the faeries are dancing, humans become enchanted by it and are forced to dance until they die, which is what happened to these two I’m guessing. If they aren’t dancing then humans can survive, depending on the magic the faeries leave behind.”

“How do you know all this?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow at Stiles.

“Because faeries are super interesting and incredibly badass and I get bored easily.”

“Yeah Tinkerbell is _so_ terrifying,” Isaac said, snorting with laughter.

“Dude, don’t even get me started on Tink. Disney destroyed her character with that stupid series they made. Like, in myths faeries live in –“

“I’m sure your mythology lesson is very interesting, but two people have died and we need to stop anyone else from joining them,” Derek cut in, glaring between Isaac and Stiles. “So how do we stop them?”

Stiles opened his mouth to speak but after a moment he just huffed and closed his mouth. After a few seconds of silence, he opened his mouth again and said, “I don’t know.”

“I’m glad we had that build-up,” Peter replied, smirking at Stiles. “The anticipation was killing me.”

“Okay smart-ass, I might not know _that_ , but in faerie tales three is a… sacred number? That’s the best way I can explain it. Basically all fae folk love the number three. Three challenges, three wishes, Rumplestiltskin spun gold three times, etcetera. So there’ll probably be one more death before they move on, which gives us a very small window to stop them.”

“Okay, except we don’t know how to stop them, or where the next death will happen. If it even is faeries. I mean, come on. _Faeries?!_ ” Isaac said, looking around the group.

“You’re a werewolf, Peter came back to life with the help of a banshee – no offense Lydia,” Stiles said, glancing at Lydia who rolled her eyes. “Kira’s a kitsune and I was possessed by a thousand-year-old fox spirit and you’re telling me faeries are unbelievable?” Stiles replied, looking at him incredulously.

“Okay, fair point.”

“Well I’m glad we’re all agreed,” Lydia said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Now, we might not know how to stop them, but given the first two deaths were three days apart, I’m guessing we have two days to figure out how to do that. And as to where the death will happen, you’re forgetting the rule of three. They’re probably going to make a triangle. My first guess would have been a circle from the ring, but obviously you can’t get one with three points, so a triangle it is. Which gives us two possible locations where the final death could occur. Here and here,” Lydia said, pointing to two spots equidistant above and below the line between the first two deaths. “Both spots create an equilateral triangle. However, one’s in the middle of a river so we can probably count that one out. Which means we’re left with one option. This is where the final faerie ring will most likely appear,” she finished, pointing to the middle of the wildlife reserve.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you, Lydia?” Stiles asked, grinning at her.

“Only every other day,” Lydia answered, smiling back at him.

Turning his attention back to the table they were all gathered around, Stiles noticed that Peter had gone very still beside him and had the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip.

Stiles elbowed Peter softly, hoping to get his attention without any of the other supernatural creatures noticing them, which unfortunately caused Peter to jump, drawing everyone’s eyes towards them.

Shaking himself, Peter subtly released the table from his iron-grip, pushing himself away from the group as he did so.

“Well this has been fun but if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go do some actual research instead of just speculating,” Peter said, giving the group a thin smile before walking towards the door.

“Are you going to share how you plan on doing that?” Derek asked, now examining the map.

“By going through our family’s archives, how else?” Peter said, turning and rolling his eyes.

“I thought everything burned in the fire,” Derek replied, straightening and facing Peter.

“No, luckily my father was smart enough to start making copies of our books,” Peter responded, now walking backwards towards the door to the loft. “Talia and I continued doing it and quite a bit of information survived. It’s in the vault.”

“How long did _that_ take you?” Stiles asked, snorting with laughter. “I’m surprised you don’t have carpal tunnel from all the writing.”

“We did have computers back then, you idiot.”

“Sure you did, you dinosaur,” Stiles replied, walking towards Peter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Peter asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Stiles.

“I’m coming with you. You just announced you have multiple books on mythical creatures and you expect me to sit here and do nothing about it? And here I thought you were finally starting to understand me.”

“No you’re not. I don’t want to deal with your incessant talking.”

“Come on, Peter! You can’t just say something like that and leave without me!”

“Oh my God, just take him. I don’t want to put up with him moaning about being left behind,” Derek growled, glaring between the two.

“Fine,” Peter replied, turning on his heel and exiting the room.

“Hey, wait up!” Stiles called, scurrying after him and tripping over his shoelace in the process.

Getting to his feet, Stiles chased Peter out of the loft and down the stairs.

“How do you move so fast,” Stiles gasped out, catching up to the werewolf at the door to the building.

“I stay in shape,” Peter replied shortly, unlocking his car and getting in. “What the hell are you doing?” He asked as Stiles opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

“My car’s in the shop, you need to drive me,” Stiles replied, buckling his seatbelt.

“Of course it is,” Peter muttered. Putting the car in drive, Peter pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the school.

-

“Wow, this isn’t a computer, Peter. This is like, the great-grandfather to computers,” Stiles said admiring the computer in the Hales’ vault.

“You’re hilarious,” Peter replied flatly. Pulling out his own laptop, he sat down and started working.

“What, so I have to use the crappy computer?” Stiles moaned, pulling a chair up to the desk.

“Yes. Now shut up and concentrate.”

Huffing, Stiles turned on the computer and began typing.

“Oh my God, I’m going to be your age by the time this document finishes loading. Could this computer move any slower?” Stiles complained half an hour later as he tried to open the third document on the list.

“You can leave if you don’t like it,” Peter said, not even looking at Stiles.

“Okay, what is your problem? Usually you have all sorts of sassy comebacks, but since we left Derek’s you’ve barely said anything to me. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Peter replied angrily, snapping his laptop closed and shoving it into his bag. “Make sure you close the door when you leave. “ Standing, he turned towards the entrance and walked up the stairs, leaving Stiles alone and completely bemused.

-

“So I figured out how to kill them,” Stiles said, walking into Derek’s loft the next day. “Where’s Peter?” He asked, looking around at the group.

“Dunno. He wouldn’t answer his phone. But you said you’ve found it?” Derek replied, coming out of the kitchen, where he’d been trying to keep the other werewolves from raiding his fridge.

“Yeah. So you remember how I told you guys that the mushrooms appear to warn humans away from the faerie rings? Well, apparently they’re also a warning to the faeries. The faeries choose three separate spots to dance and if any of them re-enter that area again, they’ll die. Some legends say it’s from an excess of magic, some say that their spell turns on them and forces them to dance until they die, but apparently it works.”

“So we have to lure the faeries back into the circles? How? They’re not going to go anywhere near that area,” Scott replied, coming out of the kitchen with a sandwich in hand.

“They don’t have to. There are certain types of mushrooms that are poisonous to faeries, and there’s one specific species that always creates the faerie rings. It gives off a scent so other faeries know not to go near it, but if it’s too potent or if its ingested or even touched, it can kill the faeries. And the silver lining: it’s not poisonous to humans or werewolves.”

“Great. So we… what? Go find a bunch of these mushrooms and throw them at the faeries tomorrow night and hope it works?” Isaac asked, a bag of chips in hand.

“No you moron. Remember, the mushrooms are poisonous if the scent is too potent. So if we got all the mushrooms and crushed them near where the faeries will be tomorrow night, the scent should be enough to kill them. And if it doesn’t they should at least be incapacitated so we can finish the job.” Lydia replied while Stiles stole some of Isaac’s chips.

“But if the mushrooms mark where the faerie rings are and we take the mushrooms, how will we know where the rings are? Someone could walk into the ring and get hurt.” Kira said, giving Stiles a puzzled look.

“According to the book I read once the faeries are dead, whatever magic they left behind completely disperses. So the faerie rings wouldn’t hold power anymore and would be safe. So we just need to hope no one steps in those areas between us taking the mushrooms and us killing the faeries.” Stiles said through a mouthful of food. “So shall we meet up tomorrow and do that? Cause I have to go home and study.”

“Okay. Everyone meet back here by six tomorrow then,” Scott said, putting down his plate and grabbing his bag.

“Sounds good. Toodles,” Stiles replied, waving to the rest of the group as he and Scott headed out.

-

“Still no Peter?” Stiles asked as he entered Derek’s loft the next day.

“No. I went over to his place and he wouldn’t let me in. I’m pretty sure he’s moping,” Derek replied from the couch.

“Wouldn’t moping imply that he has feelings?” Isaac said, coming in from the kitchen with a bag of goldfish crackers.

“Put those back right now or I’ll break your arm,” Derek said, glaring at Isaac.

“Okay, sheesh. Where are Scott and Kira by the way?”

“They went to gather the mushrooms. Should be here soon,” Stiles said as the door to the loft slid open, and Kira and Scott entered, both carrying a bag of mushrooms.

“Here they are,” Scott said, plopping his bag on the table next to Kira’s. “What’s the plan now?”

“We’ll want to crush them, as Lydia said last night. That way they’ll be the most potent. But we don’t want to do it too early or they’ll lose the scent. So I vote we bring them to the spot where the faeries will be and once the faeries show up we crush them. Anyone disagree?” Stiles asked, looking around the group.

When no one said anything, he tossed the map to Derek and grabbed the two bags.

“Let’s head out then. We need to find the spot and we don’t know exactly when the faeries will show up. We want to be prepared.”

-

Finding the location for the last faerie ring wasn’t actually that hard. There was a large clearing right where Lydia had marked the map, which was completely flat and devoid of rocks or holes.

By now the sun was going down and Stiles glanced nervously around the clearing, picking out all the spots where he knew the rest of the Pack was hidden, just past the edge of the clearing.

“What are you thinking about?” Lydia asked as she sat down beside Stiles.

“Nothing,” Stiles replied. He could feel a blush spreading along his face and hoped it was too dark for Lydia to notice.

“I know it’s not nothing, Stiles,” Lydia said, nudging him gently.

“Okay, but let’s talk later. We don’t know when the faeries are going to show up and we don’t want to scare them away,” Stiles replied, hoping Lydia wouldn’t keep pushing. The chances of the faeries showing up already were almost none, and he knew Lydia knew that. He just didn’t want to voice his worries about Peter here where everyone else could easily hear what he was saying.

Luckily Lydia got the hint. “Okay,” she said and gave Stiles’ hand a quick squeeze before turning back towards the clearing.

Another hour passed before Stiles became aware that something had changed. For one thing, the temperature had dropped. Not just ‘oh it’s night so it’s cool out’ dropped, but had plummeted to the point where Stiles was now shivering despite his sweater. And even though he couldn’t see anything, he could also hear what sounded like many quiet voices whispering. It almost sounded like leaves rustling except there was no wind tonight. He could feel Lydia stiffen beside him and knew she heard it as well.

Suddenly there was a flash of light as if a small lightning storm had started in the middle of the clearing and Stiles could see the faeries. Well, not fully. It was more like he was seeing shadows. He watched, completely entranced, as the shadows formed a circle and began dancing, slowly at first but quickly picking up more speed.

He was just thinking maybe he should go over and join them (what could it possibly hurt?) when suddenly the faeries began stumbling over each other, some falling to their knees and others toppling over completely.

“No! Stop!” Stiles shouted, about to lunge into the clearing when Lydia tackled him, pinning him to the ground.

Hitting the ground, Stiles felt his head start to clear and managed to finally tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him. Taking a few deep breaths, he tapped Lydia’s arm to relay that he was feeling better.

Rolling off of Stiles, Lydia sat down in front of him and helped him sit up so he could face her.

“You do remember that the plan included you looking away from the clearing, right? As the only human, you’re the only one actually vulnerable to their magic, and yet you looked right at them.”

“Well at least it gave us a better idea of when to attack,” Isaac said, walking over to them. “We could smell your anxiety from the other side of the clearing once they started dancing.”

“Glad I could help,” Stiles replied, glaring at him. “So are they all dead?” he asked, nodding at the clearing.

“Yeah, the others are just double checking for any survivors. But it looks like the plan worked. Good job, guys.”

“Well, none are left. Their bodies started disintegrating as soon as they died, so I’m taking that as a good sign,” Scott said when Isaac, Stiles, and Lydia had joined them.

“Yeah, that’s good. Well, if this is over, let’s head out. I’m about ready to pass out after being infected by their magic.”

“You okay to drive home?” Scott asked Stiles when they got back to where they’d left their cars.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. See you later, Scotty. Bye, guys,” Stiles replied, pulling out his keys and hopping into his jeep.

Pulling up outside his house, Stiles was glad to see his dad’s Sheriff cruiser was gone. Stiles was too tired to deal with probing questions from his dad. Although John now knew about the things that go bump in the night, that didn’t mean he approved of Stiles’ extra-curriculars and Stiles had decided not to tell his father about this excursion.

Dragging himself up the stairs to his room, Stiles opened his door and collapsed on his bed, not bothering to do more than kick off his shoes.

-

Stiles woke up a few hours later to the sound of his dad climbing the stairs. Lying in bed, he listened as John entered his own room and then there was silence in the house again. Rolling over, Stiles closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep but unfortunately he now felt wide awake.

Sighing, Stiles rolled onto his back again and lay there, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the events from the past few days. Although everything had ended well, he still couldn’t figure out what had happened that had caused Peter to get so angry. And worst of all, he couldn’t figure out why he cared so much about it. But after lying there for almost an hour, staring at his ceiling and trying to puzzle it out Stiles finally gave up and, getting out of bed, put on his shoes and went downstairs.

Grabbing his keys, Stiles slipped through the front door and got into his Jeep. Starting the engine, Stiles pulled away from the curb and drove down the street.

Ten minutes later he stopped outside an apartment building in the nicer area of town. Killing the engine, Stiles got out of his car and started up the path, looking up as a light in the upper-most window quickly went out. Rolling his eyes, Stiles approached the front door and pushed the buzzer, waiting for a reply. After a few rings the receiver clicked off, making Stiles huff in frustration.

Stepping off the porch, Stiles craned his neck up so he could see the top floor and quietly called out.

“Peter, I know you’re awake. I saw you turn your light off, you dumbass. Now open up or I’ll just pick the lock.”

Stepping back onto the porch, Stiles allowed himself a satisfied smirk as the door buzzed and clicked open, allowing him access to the building.

Getting into the elevator, Stiles hit the button for the top floor and leaned back against the wall, using the few seconds he had to figure out what exactly he was going to say. He looked up as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, stealing himself for what he was about to do.

When Stiles got to Peter’s door, he hesitated, suddenly unsure if what he was doing was the right thing but before he could make up his mind the door opened and Peter was standing there, staring at him expectantly. Without saying a word, Stiles stepped into the apartment, kicking off his shoes as he went. As he moved toward the living area on the other side of the kitchen bar, he heard Peter walk into the kitchen and turning around, saw the older man grab two mugs out of the dish rack, put some teabags in them, and pour water in.

Turning back around, Stiles walked over and sat down on the couch just as Peter came out of the kitchen area and sat down on the leather recliner across from him and put the mugs down on the coffee table between them.

Looking up from the mugs, Stiles raised an eyebrow at Peter who shrugged and said, “some habits are hard to break. It’s just green tea it’s not poison. There’s also honey if you want it.”

Stiles didn’t know how to react to this; he had never seen Peter act so domestic and had never though the werewolf would even know how to. His only response was to raise his eyebrows even more.

“Regardless of what you might think of me, I am civilized. It was always a tradition in my house to welcome guests with tea or coffee. But given the hour, I think tea is more appropriate. Now is there a reason you’re here or are you just going to sit there and silently judge me?”

“Sorry. Sometimes I forget that you…” Hesitating, Stiles realized that he had no way of finishing that sentence without making things even more awkward. “Sorry,” he finished lamely, focusing on picking up his mug and taking a sip so he wouldn’t have to meet Peter’s eyes.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, Stiles fiddling with the string of his teabag and Peter stared at Stiles waiting for him to say something. Finally Stiles took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I came over because- I’m here to ask you…” Stopping, Stiles tried to put his thoughts into order before finally giving up. “I have no idea how to start.”

“Most people find it easiest to start from the beginning. Try that,” Peter replied, smirking at him.

Instead of rising to the bait, Stiles took another deep breath and started over. “You were okay with it. When I leaned against you. If anyone else had done that, you would’ve killed them, but when I did it you… acted like it was a joke. And then later on, when Scott accidently brushed hands with you, you freaked. But I grabbed you and you immediately calmed down. And then you initiated contact with me when you nudged me. You acted like it was completely natural. And then, later on, you acted so upset. You acted like you were angry with me for absolutely no reason.”

“Is there a question in there somewhere? Or do you just enjoy stating facts?” Peter had gone completely still and was staring at Stiles intensely, making Stiles squirm under the attention.

“What the hell is going on with you? You’re acting completely weird and I have no idea how to process any of it.”

“What do you want me to say? That the fire left me empty and made me forget the comfort of having a Pack? Because it did. That’s exactly how I felt. I tried to create a Pack for myself after everything that happened and I failed. So I thought I was better off alone. And then you leaned against me and it was such a comfortable, normal gesture, and I was suddenly reminded of what Pack is. You became my Pack, Stiles. Or at least, that’s how I started seeing you. And then I saw you flirting with Lydia and I became territorial. Wolves are bound by instinct to Pack members, and seeing you get so close with someone I considered an outsider came as an unwanted reminder of how you and the rest of them view me. It was stupid and childish, but that’s what happened.”

Stiles just sat there, unable to think of a response. He continued to stare at Peter, allowing the silence to stretch on so that Peter was the uncomfortable one now.

“Would you _say_ something?” Peter finally bit out, unable to handle the silence anymore.

“You see me as Pack,” Stiles said, feeling a dopey smile unravel across his face.

“What.” Peter stated, completely dumbfounded. Because really, this was about the last reaction he had expected.

Instead of responding, Stiles launched himself across the coffee table separating the two of them, narrowly missing the mugs that had been long since forgotten, and planted a very messy kiss on Peter’s chin.

“You see me as Pack,” Stiles repeated, lifting himself from where Peter had instinctively caught him. “And sorry, I was aiming for your mouth.”

“So you took that to mean you could kiss me?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow at Stiles and linking his arms around the boy’s waist. “That’s quite an assumption.”

“Well, maybe you’re not as subtle as you think. And maybe more obtuse than you realize. Cause I’ve been into you for a while.”

“Well then, maybe we should make up for lost time,” Peter replied, cupping his hands around Stiles’ thighs and pulling him closer.

“That was not smooth at all,” Stiles sniggered, allowing himself to be pulled forward so he was straddling Peter’s lap.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Your Highness,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t realize that your expectations were so high.”

“Well, if you’re going to refer to me as ‘Your Highness’ they’re going to get even higher,” Stiles joked.

Sighing, Peter            leaned back in his seat. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” he said, letting his eyes roam over Stiles’ body.

“I can think of one or two things,” Stiles replied, wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck and kissing him properly.

Peter responded eagerly to Stiles’ affection, kissing him back with as much fervour and slid his hands up Stiles’ thighs so they were cupping his ass.

Stiles moaned into Peter’s mouth at the feeling and began slowly grinding down into Peter’s lap.

They continued on like this for a few minutes when Stiles suddenly let out a yelp and jumped out of Peter’s lap with a mixture of pain and surprise on his face.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, worry overcoming his confusion.

“Yeah, I uh, I just think you might have lost control a bit,” Stiles replied, nodding towards Peter’s hands.

Looking down, Peter immediately realized what Stiles was talking about – apparently his claws had decided to make an appearance.

“Oh, um… I guess it’s… been a while?” Peter said, slightly confused. Looking up, he realized that Stiles was no longer in pain but seemed to be desperately trying not to laugh at him. Seeing this, Peter felt a flush of embarrassment and glanced away.

“There’s no need to laugh” Peter grumbled.

“I’m sorry Peter, but it _is_ kind of funny,” Stiles replied, straddling him again. “Plus it’s kind of a turn on that I get you that hot and bothered.”

Peter still wouldn’t look at him, so Stiles huffed and began peppering Peter’s face with small kisses until the werewolf finally lifted his head and kissed Stiles back.

“I’m glad you derive so much pleasure from my embarrassment,” Peter said drily.

“I’m glad you’re glad,” Stiles replied with a smirk. Peter just rolled his eyes and started kissing and sucking down Stiles’ neck and Stiles let his head fall back, giving him better access.

Looking up again, Stiles caught sight of the clock hanging on the opposite wall and his eyes widened as he realized what time it was.

“Oh shit!” Stiles exclaimed, pushing himself away from Peter and standing up again.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, confused.

“It’s so late! If my dad catches me out, he’ll kill me! I have to go – shit, where’re my keys?!”

“By the door,” Peter replied calmly, walking with Stiles to the front door.

“Thanks,” Stiles said distractedly and grabbed the doorknob.

Peter quickly put a hand on the door, holding it closed, and used his other hand to lift Stiles’ head, forcing him meet his eyes.

“Stiles,” Peter says quietly once they’d made eye contact.

Stiles stopped moving, letting his hand go limp on the doorknob as he focused on Peter.

“I really enjoyed tonight and I would like it to continue if possible. But I need you to remember what I told you earlier. I see you as part of my Pack now. That doesn’t mean you have to leave Scott’s Pack. But I need you to be able to commit to a real relationship. If you just want to fool around, then you need to tell me. I need to know.”

Stiles held Peter’s gaze for a few more minutes while he thought over everything that had happened the last few days, and everything they had talked about and done.

Coming to his decision, Stiles moved forward and wrapped his arms around Peter.

“I want a real relationship,” was all he said before kissing Peter on the cheek and slipping out the door, leaving Peter in awe.

-

Waking up the next morning, Stiles was hit by a surge of emotions as he remembered what had happened the night before. Stretching, he rolled out of bed with a giant grin plastered across his face and went downstairs for breakfast.

His dad was already there when he got to the kitchen, and he hardly glanced up as he spoke.

“You were out late, Stiles,” he said, turning the page of the newspaper. “Were you with someone?”

“What? No!” Stiles spluttered, trying to think of a good lie. “I was… talking to Scott. He came by, wanted to talk to me about some supernatural stuff. Alpha stuff. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Uh-huh,” John replied, looking up from the paper. “And is he the one who gave you the hickey?”

Stiles went bright red – he had totally forgotten about that. Clasping his hand over his neck, he began stuttering out excuses again.

“Don’t bother Stiles. Look, I don’t care that you snuck out to be with someone, okay? I did it all the time when I was a kid. Just don’t lie about it, and make sure you stay safe. It was dangerous enough to be out in the middle of the night before we knew what was really out there. Now I’m gonna worry even more. So make sure you tell me or Scott where you are and when you get home so we know you’re safe.”

“Yeah, sorry dad,” Stiles said, unable to meet his father’s eyes.

Twenty minutes later, Stiles was standing in the bathroom and staring at himself in the mirror, desperately trying to think of a way to cover the dark hickey on his neck.

“Why do I have to live somewhere warm?” He groaned, poking the bruised flesh with a grimace and wishing he could put on a scarf or a thick hoodie.

Stiles jumped as his phone suddenly started going off. Checking the caller ID he sighed and answered, knowing he would probably regret it.

“Hey Der –“

“What happened between you and Peter last night?” Derek asked gruffly, cutting him off.

“I’m good, how are you Derek?” Stiles responded, trying to delay.

“Answer the question, Stiles.”

“Nothing! Why? What do you think happened? Cause nothing happened.” Stiles could hear his voice getting higher and faster as he spoke and practically bit his tongue to stop himself from speaking.

“He’s here right now and he’s making waffles. _Waffles_ ,” Derek emphasized the word as if it were a crime. “And he smells like you,” he continued, his voice becoming suspicious.

“What? But nothing –“

“I can hear your heart beat through the phone, Stiles.”

“Ah.”

“Get over here. Now. Or I’ll get Scott to escort you over.” Derek said and hung up the phone before Stiles could reply.

“Great. Well, so much for subtlety,” Stiles muttered, taking one last regretful glance at his reflection.

-

“Heeeyyyy, Derek,” Stiles said, opening the door to the loft and seeing Derek sitting on the couch glaring at him.

Without responding, Derek stood and walked over to Stiles, pulling back the collar of his flannel to get a better look at the bruise hidden there. After a few seconds, Derek looked back up at Stiles, releasing his collar but not stepping back.

“Did he force you?” Derek asked, keeping his eyes on Stiles.

“What? No! It was totally consensual!” Stiles cried, indignant.

“Good,” Derek replied, returning to the couch as Peter came out of the kitchen.

“Was that really necessary, nephew?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at Derek.

“Yes,” Derek replied shortly, keeping his eyes on Stiles. “And you understand what he told you about Pack bonds? Do you understand the connection you share?”

“Yes?” Stiles said hesitantly, glancing between the two werewolves.

“That wasn’t very convincing, Stiles.”

“Yes. I do.” Stiles said more firmly.

“Alright. I might not agree with it, but as long as it’s consensual and you understand what you’re doing, I won’t stop you guys,” Derek said, looking at Peter and Stiles. “But if you hurt him,” he continued, standing and turning towards Peter with a flash of his eyes, “I _will_ kill you.”

“Always one for theatrics, nephew,” Peter replied with a glib smile.

“Have you spoken to Scott yet?” Derek asked Stiles, ignoring his uncle.

Stiles felt his stomach drop as he shook his head. He had been so caught up with his dad and Derek’s call he had completely overlooked Scott.

-

“So you… and Peter… are together?” Scott asked, staring straight ahead as if trying to ignore Stiles’ presence.

“You know Scotty, you’re saying the words, but I feel like you’re not processing them. Maybe I should come back later and try again.” Stiles said, going to get off his friend’s bed. Before he could move, however, Scott grabbed his arm and held him in place.

“Or we could just deal with it now, if that works for you,” Stiles continued, wincing in pain as Scott’s grip grew stronger. “Okay buddy, you gotta let go. Scott. SCOTT!” Stiles yelled, wrenching his arm free and rubbing it.

“How could you do this to me, Stiles?” Scott asked, looking at him for the first time since Stiles had broken the news, and there were tears in his eyes. “You know what he did to me. To us. And then you – _how could you do this?”_

“Well I didn’t mean to. It’s not like I planned out my life with the intention of dating Peter fucking Hale. It was pretty sudden.” Stiles replied, still rubbing his arm.

Scott mumbled something unintelligible back, looking down.

“What? Dude, you have to speak up.” Stiles said, scooting closer.

“I said ‘that was a lie.’ Your heart rate changed when you said it was sudden,” Scott responded, looking up at Stiles.

Stiles just stared at his friend, at a loss for words.

“I need you to leave,” Scott said, turning away from Stiles.

“Scott –“ Stiles replied, putting a hand on Scott’s shoulder, trying to turn him back around.

Scott just shrugged it off refusing to look at his friend. He lay there and listened as Stiles got up and left, closing the door behind him.

It wasn’t until Stiles has closed the front door that Scott broke down completely.

-

A soft knock woke Scott up and he felt completely disoriented. He looked around, trying to remember what had happened. His eyes were sore and raw, as if he’d been crying. And then he remembered everything that happened between Stiles and himself. The memories came rushing back and with them, the dull ache of Stiles’ betrayal.

The knock came again, more insistent this time. Scott was tempted to tell the person to leave, thinking it was Stiles. But after taking a second to sniff the air, he realized it was Isaac and reluctantly got up and opened the door.

“What do you want?” Scott asked, blocking the doorway.

“To talk,” Isaac replied, trying to push past Scott.

“Too bad,” the Alpha said, closing the door in Isaac’s face.

“Scott, I know you can hear me out hear. I’m gonna talk anyways, we might as well do it face-to-face.” Isaac said through the door.

Scott stood on the other side for a moment, thinking about his options. He could leave through the window but Isaac would definitely hear him, and would probably end up chasing him if he was this desperate to talk. Besides, Scott was too tired to put up a fight so he gave in, opening the door and gesturing Isaac towards the bed.

“What do you want?” Scott repeated once they were both seated.

“I told you. To talk.”

What about?” Scott asked, feeling too tired to put up with any more shit.

Isaac hesitated for a moment and then gave Scott a hard look. “About Stiles and Peter.”

“Get out,” Scott said, pointing towards the door.

“Scott, just hear me out.”

“No. I won’t. Get –“

“Do you know what my anchor is?” Isaac asked, speaking over Scott. “It’s funny. We’ve lived together for a year, but never spoken about our anchors. I mean, yours was always more obvious. You had Allison and Stiles while you were learning. You didn’t have to grasp at straws. You always had a solid foundation. But me.” Isaac laughed and shook his head. “I never had true support from anyone while I was learning.”

“You had Derek.”

“Derek never cared about us except for how well we could fight. We were soldiers in his and the Argents’ war. Don’t get me wrong, we’re… friendlier now. But as an Alpha there was no real support.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Scott asked, looking at Isaac.

“I want to talk to you about my anchor. Do you know who it is?”

“No,” Scott replied, frowning. How had he never asked Isaac about this?

“It’s my dad.” Isaac nodded at the shocked look on Scott’s face. “It’s true.”

“But he was horrible to you. He abused you. He locked you in that freezer.”

“And I will never forgive him for that. It’ll haunt me for the rest of my life. But it’s just like I told Derek. There was a time, before all that started, when he was a good dad. He was loving and supportive towards my brother and I. And even after my brother died and my father started… doing what he did, there were times when that loving, supportive side would come out. And I would think to myself, maybe he wasn’t all bad. Maybe he wasn’t evil. After what he went through – losing his wife, losing my brother – could I really blame him for what he did? I still don’t know the answer to that. I don’t know if I ever will. But I was able to move past all of that, and remember the good father that he was. Human nature is not evil, Scott. It can be twisted to become evil, as in my father’s case and Peter’s. But even people who seem evil can still have kindness in them. Just think about it Scott. I’m not telling you to forgive Peter for what he did to you. But maybe you can find a way to move past it. For Stiles’ sake.”

Standing, Isaac left the room and left Scott to think on what he’d said.

-

The next day Stiles came home from the library and walked into his room only to find Scott lying on his bed, reading one of his books.

Scott glanced up when Stiles entered and stared at his best friend who stood frozen in the door way, unsure of what to do.

“Can I… come in?” Stiles asked hesitantly, looking confused about why he was asking.

“It’s your room,” Scott reminded him, moving over on the bed as Stiles made to join him.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asked, looking at Scott.

“I came to talk to you. About us… and Peter. I want to say,” Scott paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m okay with it. Well, not okay. But I can deal with it.”

“What brought you around?”

“Isaac. The guy’s actually quite insightful. And Derek. He explained what happened between you and Peter. About him seeing you as Pack.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

The two sat in silence for a few more minutes before Stiles spoke up again.

“I ended it with him.”

“What?” Scott asked, turning to face Stiles.

“I broke it off with Peter. I told him I couldn’t risk losing you.”

“You won’t lose me,” Scott said, smiling at Stiles. “It’s okay.”

“Thanks, Scotty,” Stiles replied, feeling tears in his eyes as he pulled his friend into a hug.

-

“What do you want, Stiles,” Peter’s voice said through the buzzer of his apartment building.

“To talk to you,” Stiles replied, hoping it was enough to entice the werewolf. He had more to say, but he’d rather speak to the man in person than through the box.

Luckily Peter accepted this reason and buzzed him into the building. Running, Stiles jammed his thumb into the elevator call button, impatient to talk to Peter face-to-face.

Arriving at Peter’s apartment, Stiles knocked sharply on the door and let out an irritated huff when he heard Peter taking his time on the other side of it.

As soon as the door was open, Stiles tried to barrel past Peter and into the living room where they had spoken the other night; but this time Peter wouldn’t let him.

“What do you have left to say?” Peter asked, leaning against the door jam and blocking the entrance. Stiles could see the betrayal written across his face.

“I spoke to Scott. He’s okay with it. With us,” Stiles said, thinking this news was victorious.

Peter, however, didn’t seem to think so. He didn’t even move, except to raise an eyebrow at Stiles.

“And?” He prompted when Stiles didn’t continue.

“And it’s okay now. We can be together,” Stiles continued, looking confused as to why Peter was still upset.

“Stiles, we could always be together. Scott doesn’t dictate our lives. I don’t care how he feels one way or the other. I only care how you feel. You told me the other night that you wanted a real relationship –“

“I do!” Stiles cried indignantly.

“But you were so quick to change your mind yesterday after you spoke to Scott. How can I be sure that won’t happen again? What about when you tell your father? Scott’s a werewolf, he understands Pack bonds and he’s reluctant. Your father’s a human, he has no understanding of these things. If he finds out and tries to come between us, will you let him?”

Stiles didn’t know what to say – he hadn’t even thought of his dad finding out or how he would deal with that. All he could do was stare at Peter speechlessly.

“That’s what I thought,” Peter said sadly, moving to close the door.

“No, wait!” Stiles cried, desperate to make Peter understand. “I don’t care what my dad will think – no I don’t!” Stiles repeated at the incredulous look Peter gave him. “I was taken off-guard with Scott’s reaction. I had no idea how to process the thought of losing my closest friend, and I lashed out at you. It was cruel and unfair, but it happened and I can’t change that. But I can make sure it doesn’t happen again. Because I care too much about you to lose you, Peter. And we can work together to make sure this never happens again.” Stiles finished, feeling the desperation in his expression and the fear in his eyes, and hoping Peter would understand that it was fear of losing him.

Peter stood there, leaning against the doorway for a few agonizing minutes, judging Stiles and what he had said. Finally he nodded and broke into a smile.

“Okay,” he said, stepping forward and kissing Stiles on the mouth, swallowing the noise of surprise he made. He let the kiss continue for a few more minutes before pulling away despite Stiles’ soft moans. “Okay. I’m in.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to send my prompts on tumblr (avengers-avenging-shit) and just come to say hi :)


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